Love Is Just A Word
by jawnlovesajumper
Summary: Without Sherlock in his life, John finds himself in an abusive relationship. But he isn't convinced that it's abusive.
1. Chapter 1

John was not used to this. He was not used to a woman -his girlfriend- yelling at him and throwing whatever she could get her hands on in his direction.

"You god-awful son of a..." she'd start, followed by a long string of profanities before throwing a book at John.

He would step out of the way and try to calm her down, but to no avail.

"Mary, it's okay, it's just..."

But he would be cut off by another thrown book or shoe.

He was not used to this, but he should have been. It happened all the time. Mary was very temperamental, and she had her bad days. _She's only human_, John would tell himself when she would have one of these fits. _Everyone gets this way sometimes._

During one specific fit, she emptied her arsenal of shoes on John. When she had no more shoes, and John had a significant amount of red marks and oncoming bruises, she huffed and stomped off into the kitchen. John followed her, concerned and somewhat frightened -for her sake, of course.

"Mary-"

She picked up a half-empty bottle of wine from the kitchen counter and threw it at him. He narrowly dodged it and turned in time to see it shatter against the wall behind him, glass and alcohol flying in every direction.

"Get out!" she screamed. "I don't want to see you...Get out!"

"Okay, okay," John answered, afraid he had upset her. "I'm leaving." His voice was small and quiet, contrasting Mary's loud screams.

John grabbed his mobile from his kitchen table and slowly made his way to the front door, facing Mary the entire way. She broke down and began to cry, and John began to approach her again, but this was met with a very negative result.

"I said leave!"

"Okay, all right."

So he left.

John went back home to 221b. He hardly considered it home anymore, since his flatmate was gone and he spent most of his time at Mary's house anyway. But it was times like these, times when Mary would get into her little fits, that John was glad he continued to pay rent on the flat. It was also when he was forced to return to the loneliest place he knew. Ever since That Day -as John referred to it because he refused to speak about what happened on that day- 221b was very lonely. It only brought back memories of his former flatmate, whom he had owed so much to, but would never be able to repay. He preferred not to stay in the flat, but when Mary got this way, it seemed like he had no other choice.

He sat down in a chair and sighed, resting his head in his hands. Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

Mary would always text him after they had a fight, apologising and asking him to please forgive her. And this time was no different. She texted him with a more profuse apology than was normal. She also asked him to come home. _But I am home_, John thought. But he took a cab back to Mary's house anyway.

When he returned, he could see that she had been crying for some time.

"Feeling better?" John asked, trying to sound authentic in his concern.

Mary just nodded her head in response.

"Good," he answered with a nod. He stood in the doorway for a few moments before walking into the house and taking a seat next to Mary on the couch.

"I really am sorry, John," she said, sniffling a bit. "I was just having a bad day. Work was stressful, and my parents called, left a nasty voic mail. I was just wearing thin. I'm so sorry."

The tears began again. She moved closer to John, hiding her face in his shoulder as the tears began to fall.

"I know," he said, putting his arm around her and patting her back comfortingly. "I know. It'll be all right."


	2. Chapter 2

To say that John was engaged in what he was doing would be an exaggeration. He was sitting in the middle of a nice restaurant -one that his date had chosen- at a table, facing across from Mary. She was babbling on about something that ultimately bored John. He was picking at his food, some unknown dish that Mary had ordered for him. His thoughts eventually drifted elsewhere completely, and he tuned Mary out. But after a few moments, he realised that his table had fallen utterly silent. He looked up from his food and noticed a change in Mary.

"John?" she asked, her expression hard as stone.

"What?" John asked slowly, afraid he had done something to somehow offend her.

"Have you even been listening to me?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, yeah of course I have," he said haphazardly.

"No, you haven't," Mary corrected him, looking rather pissed now.

"I'm sorry, Mary; I've just got a lot on my mind right now."

"What could be more important than this?" she asked, gesturing over their table, looking genuinely hurt. "I bring you to this brilliant restaurant for a date and you just completely ignore me for something you consider more important?"

John never remembered saying that he was thinking of more important things; only more interesting ones.

"Look, I'm sorry, all right? I didn't mean to offend you or-

"Well you did." She crossed her arms, and John noticed that she looked like a pouting child. "You can forget about getting anything from me tonight," she said, standing up and causing quite the scene in the quiet restaurant. "And you can go home and stay in that hole in the wall you call your flat, because I don't want to see you at my house."

John began to protest, but she picked up her glass of champagne and tossed its contents into John's face. Then she pointedly turned around and walked off, mumbling something about how she could not believe what was happening. John sighed as there was a collection of gasps from the other patrons of the restaurant. He picked up his napkin and began wiping his face clean, asking the waiter for the bill.

Another night at the flat. Just what John had been hoping to avoid. Nights alone in the flat were hard. He wasn't sure he could handle another night there. So instead of making his way to the flat, he headed towards Mary's house with the intention of apologising.

He knocked on her front door timidly, and it took a few moments before there was an answer.

"Hello?" Mary asked politely before realising who was on the other side. "I thought I told you to go home tonight," she said sourly.

"You did," John answered quietly, "but I felt guilty, so I thought I'd stop by and apologise.

"I don't need your apologies," Mary said brusquely, crossing her arms again,.

"I know you don't, but I just wanted you to know that I really am sorry I wasn't listening. It was my fault and-"

"I said, I don't need your apologies!" she screamed. What happened next was a blur for John. Mary pulled back her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"How dare you come here and mock me?" she screamed. Then the door was slammed shut, and John could feel a stinging on his face, and he could hear Mary stomping away from the door.

John rubbed his face. All he wanted was to apologise. She was probably just in a bad mood, he thought. After all, she had been going through a lot lately, with her biological father passing away less than a month ago. He told himself that it was just stress, and that she'd be back to herself sooner or later.

That night was spent at the flat anyway. John didn't even bother turning on any lights. He just went straight to the bedroom -the room that used to belong to Sherlock- and changed out of his clothes. He was brushing his teeth when the alert tone on his phone startled him. He spit in the sink before grabbing his phone and opening the message.

[text] I'm sorry I hit you. I still love you, you know. -MM

[text] I know. -JW

[text] Can you find it in yourself to forgive me? -MM

John rubbed his face, the memory of her hand running hard across it still fresh and bright in his memory.

[text] Of course I can. -JW

[text]Thank you. -MM

[text] I love you. -MM

[text] John? -MM

[text] Did I do something wrong? -MM

[text] Why won't you answer me? -MM

[text] Fine. -MM

[text] You son of a bitch. -MM

[text] I can't believe I ever gave you that second chance. -MM

[text] What is your problem? -MM

[text] Don't be a bastard. Come on. -MM

[text] Fine. Be that way. -MM

When John woke up the next morning, he was greeted with a long list of texts from Mary. They began sweet and innocent, but quickly turned sour and hateful. He had fallen asleep on her, and she obviously was not happy with that. He contemplated whether or not to text her back just yet, given that the last message had been sent just over two hours ago. His judgement got the best of him and he texted her back. After a few texts back and forth, she apologised, like she always did, and John decided to head back to her house once again.


End file.
